


No Feelings

by suncityblues



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Gen, Headaches, do ya thing, mild violence, murdoc being murdoc, pharmacudicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suncityblues/pseuds/suncityblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set vaguely when the Gorillaz were living at 212 Wobble Street (the do ya thing music video) it’s a slice of life type deal. It's technically gen but you can definitely read into it if you're so inclined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> 16:48 = 4:48 PM just so you know
> 
> also this is xposted to tumblr.

At first there is nothing, and then a burst of pain directly above his right temple.

Things come into soft focus after that. Yelling, the moldy spots on the living room ceiling just visible around little fading black dots in his vision, Noodle looking down at him with a mixed expression he can’t really read. Worry and amusement, maybe.

Murdoc is the one yelling, naturally. He’s also probably the one who caused the pain in his head but 2D doesn’t want to risk another injury by asking about it. Besides, he’s used to headaches of all shapes and sizes, and this one isn’t even an also-ran. 

Noodle smiles at him, clearly relieved. 2D smiles back on instinct and assesses the situation as best he can: he must have passed out on the living room couch the night before, which is unusual even for him, and Noodle must have had trouble waking him up which probably aggravated Murdoc into coming to investigate. He isn’t sure since everything outside of a 10 foot radius is a hazy mess of light and color but he thinks he might have seen Russel peering in through one of the outside windows, too. The foundation rattling creak from the roof confirms that he must at least have been moving around.

Grin widening—2D likes it when the whole group is together, after all— he’s surprised to realize his left arm is asleep when he tries put pressure on it to sit up. He makes a breathy embarrassed “hah” sound when he falls on his first attempt at getting up, and it’s made worse by the painful prickling feeling spreading rapidly up his arm and the somewhat oppressive stares of Murdoc and Noodle.

Neither of them make a move to help him, though Murdoc mutters an “Oh for the love ah—“ in the general direction of the basement and Noodle scurries over to a bowl of hot looking ramen previously sitting on the coffee table. She hands it out to him once he’s righted himself on the sofa and taken a moment to adjust to the woozy head rush that usually accompanies any time he gets up too quickly.

He’s not hungry and he knows that Noodle won’t be offended if he doesn’t eat the food she microwaved for him but he still somehow feels obligated to poke at it with the little plastic fork anyway.

“What time is it?” he asks, mainly to distract himself from the situation.

“Noon, you lazy fuck” Murdoc says before the words are even out of 2D’s mouth. He folds his arms tightly and leans against the door way like a particularly vile bouncer. 2D wishes he would just go back to his broadcast or else fuck off.

Noodle makes a little moue but otherwise doesn’t change her expression. She shows him her phone’s lock screen with the time on it: 16:48. There’s a little flashing notification underneath it but he can’t understand Japanese that well. Something about an appointment or a meeting maybe.

The screen background is a tortoise with a Kalashnikov shooting hearts. It looks like she drew it herself and 2D wants to tell her how much he likes it but he can’t quite think of the correct words. He wants to apologize for making her late too but his mouth is dry and his brain is so far behind reality he’s having trouble keeping up. Noodle seems to understand though, and pats him on the head, barely even a touch to his hair so that it doesn’t make his headache worse, shrugs into her jacket and heads down the stairs.

He hears the front door slam a few moments later and then he’s left alone with Murdoc. He’s not overly keen on it.

2D puts the ramen on the floor by his feet and makes to lie back down, but is stopped by a scaly green hand on his t-shirt pulling him back up. The ramen gets knocked on the floor and it’s then that 2D realized he is still wearing his jacket from the night before. His shoes too.

“No no no no no-o-e” Murdoc is repeating over and over “you will not be in the way awl day, and no blowing chunks all over the floor either.”

2D wants to tell him that he’s only feeling his normal level of nauseous and that there’s been a lot of puke in this floor and most of it wasn’t his but he knows better than to contradict Murdoc when he’s gotten himself into a lather.

Instead he just lets Murdoc drag him down the stairs and past the kitchen, into the little recording space he keeps where the pantry should be. It’s roomy for a closet, but there’s still only just enough space for Murdoc to sit with his equipment. 2D squeezes himself between the door and the edge of the desk, holding a waste bin between his knees that Murdoc had shoved into him.

They sit like this for most of the day.

He’d hardly ever been in the room before, and never without a thorough beating and a fair bit of growling from Murdoc. In the room though, when the RECORDING light is flashing Murdoc is almost congenial. He’s still slimy and spitting, sure, but he’s more of the person 2D remembers him as. For instance, he’s able to get through a sentence without throwing anything or hitting anyone.

And though time is largely meaningless to him, 2D wishes he was twenty two again for a moment, and Murdoc was a little more in control of himself, a little more lost and insecure. It’s sort of a mean thought though and he files it away for another time.

2D ends up throwing up twice in the waste basket after that and it’s dark out when Murdoc finally lets him leave the radio studio.

He’s still not hungry when he’s finally able to stand up but he wants to change his underwear and take a piss and goes to do just that when Murdoc turns to him.

They hadn’t talked at all when he was on the floor, just occasionally glared at each other.

“What tha fuu-ck is wrong with you?” Murdoc says as though 2D had done anything besides sit and stand on command since he woke up.

2D goes to respond but Murdoc continues impatiently, “You fuckin wander into here drunk off your ass and lay like th’dead awl day, you made poor Noodle and that fuckin hack Russel think y’really fuckin died, you’re almost fort-ey years old!”

He isn’t sure what to say, he hadn’t really reflected on what had led up to his condition this morning, but figures it had a lot to do with having gone out to meet an acquaintance of his from when he worked at Uncle Norms.

The man’s an investment broker now, big house in the suburbs, medium sized apartment in the city, two divorces, three kids, one gay epiphany, an attractive and much younger boyfriend who had met them briefly at the beginning of the night. He seemed really happy and that made 2D happy, too, but maybe also a little bit sad. He’s not sure; he's not that great at identifying his own feelings.

In retrospect he should not have had so much to drink with all the medication in his bloodstream. His mother had gotten him into a routine of checking his eyes and gums in the morning for signs of jaundice ever since he was a kid, and he’s been lucky, he knows, but he still is taking longer and longer to snap out of the morning (or nighttime) after funk.

Instead of saying any of that he says “I’m actually thirty four?”

Murdoc just huffs and wanders away muttering something like: I baby sit him all day and this is the thanks I get? The fucking ungrateful piece of—

2D can’t be sure though since he’s walking so fast and slamming so many doors and miscellaneous objects on the way to the hall.

Above him he can hear Russel shift on the roof.  
2D hums to himself as he turns on a light and sits down to read the paper.

It's just another Tuesday.


End file.
